


Just a Walk

by agoodtuckering



Series: Doctor Who Oneshots and Stories [23]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Autumn, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love, Mutual Pining, They just need to admit that they love each other already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: Clara and the Doctor go for a wander through Central Park.





	Just a Walk

**Author's Note:**

> Just a ficlet for my babies. This is for the "Whouffaldi Fictober" stories that I'm writing (my own creation). There will be close to 30 by the time I'm finished. I'm publishing this one a night early. Yes, I know it's still September 30th. Whoops. This is prompt #1: "walk in the park".

“When you said you wanted a walk,” she said slowly, “I didn’t think you literally meant _a walk.”_

The Doctor turned, warm eyes finding Clara’s face as she sipped her pumpkin spiced latte. Here they were, in New York City, enjoying a cool Autumn day. Just two idiots, completely in love with one another and totally unable to say the words. They were enjoying the Sunday afternoon, the cool breeze, and the changing colors.

“Well, I said _a walk._ Generally, whenever says they just want _a walk,_ they mean _just a nice walk,”_ he said defensively. “That is what I said.”

She laughed, her eyes rolling at his ridiculousness. “Yeah, true, but whenever you _say_ you want to go somewhere and do anything simple, like eat ice cream on a hot day or go swimming on a planet with beautiful beaches, there winds up being monsters or aliens or weird creatures made of ice cream cones running after us and trying to eat _us,_ instead of the other way around, so, you know…”

His eyebrows rise high on his forehead at _that._ Truly mighty, indeed. She couldn’t help another laugh from bubbling up. She shook her head, tucking her free hand into his coat pocket to steal away from the bitter air.

“Central Park really is beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, gazing about. They were walking along a paved pathway, people walking with dogs, jogging, and bicycling past. It felt… cozy, really. Everyone seemed very friendly. There were certainly no aliens, either.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied quietly. He looked thoughtful. Pensive, even.

All around them the colors were beautiful. Red Maples, Sourwoods, Black Tupelos, and Sugar Maples lined the pathway, all leading down towards the pond. He followed the path that way, Clara wandering beside him, content to let him guide them to wherever he felt like going. She was happy enough to look about in awe of all the oranges, reds, and yellows.

The companionable silence that settled between them gave her the chance to subtly admire him. He was wearing that black coat she loved so much, the one with the red lining, and a hoodie beneath. She’d caught sight of a Bowie tee peeking out earlier. He was wearing a pair of those plaid pants she loved so much as well.

He looked _so good._ She liked him best this way, when he was dressed for comfort. He didn’t care about what anyone thought of him. He liked himself perfectly enough for anyone.

Eventually, he caught hint of her gazing his way and he arched a brow above his sonic sunglasses. “Yeah?” he asked, wondering if she had something to say. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she simply replied, shaking her head gently. When he grinned, though, she found herself moving closer to take his arm. Her hand slipped into his own, _like it did so often when they were off on adventures,_ and she let her head come to rest on his shoulder.

Funny, before Christmas, he’d have pushed her away and grumbled about personal space and hating being close to anyone. So much had changed for them. He had let her in, slowly but surely, bit by bit, and now she’d managed to break down all of his walls. She saw it in his eyes, whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. He _loved_ her. Perhaps he always had. Did it really matter? She was here now, with her arm around his. Nothing else mattered.

Maybe they’d wasted time, but everything felt right _just_ _now._ Now was what truly mattered.

All he did was hum quietly, to himself, and he slowed his pace down for her. After all, she had such short legs. She wasn’t even wearing heels today. There were no high shelves on the TARDIS for her to reach, apparently.

Wordlessly, he nicked her latte from her fingers to steal a quick sip, nose wrinkling at its sweetness. He couldn’t stop himself, nor the tug at his hearts, as she laughed in surprise and went reaching to snatch it from his long fingers.

 _Yes,_ he thought. _Let every day be like this, with her. Just us. Just the two of us, together._


End file.
